


Tell Me A Story

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair asks Jim to tell a story from his past. Jim is obedient cos Blair asks so nicely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me A Story

**Author's Note:**

> Even tho it sounds incredible, there's no sex in here, at least not directly. Sounds weird coming from me, but... it's true. 
> 
> Oh, most of the things described here are btw true. It was a story that wanted to be written, so I let Jim go through the same kind of stuff I myself went through 15 years ago. 
> 
> Thanks to Shadow for betaing :) 
> 
> Feedback is deeply appreciated and will get a reply. :)

## Tell Me A Story

by Aaboe

Author's webpage: <http://tawselovers.adsl.dk/Aaboe/Sentinel.htm>

Author's disclaimer: Let's not go into that... it's too depressing to expound on the fact that you don't own what you'd like to have.

* * *

"Tell me a story, Jim. Something from your life, that you haven't told me before, perhaps something from your childhood." 

Jim turned his head to look up at Blair. It was a cosy Sunday afternoon, the game had just ended on television, and they had nowhere to go until tomorrow on this grey and drizzly day when it felt extra warm inside. And it seemed as if Blair also wasn't really in the mood for making love, just like Jim. Too lazy. 

"Why?" 

"Because I want to know more about you, I want to know everything. And not just the facts, man. What you thought of, what you felt, who you liked, who you didn't like. Everything, man." 

Jim thought for a moment, trying to settle for some kind of memory that was either safe or at least non-threatening to the peace within him. A glance at the television revealed the image of a boy on crutches, a commercial for an insurance company. 

Memories welled to the surface. 

"When I was 15, I really could have used some of the stuff you've taught me about controlling my senses. Especially concerning pain. I managed ok, but it's just easier with you to guide me through." 

"What happened, Jim?" 

"I was walking home from football practice one day, adrenaline from a good game still rolling around. I saw Robbie walking on the other side of the street as he'd had a bit of a head start from the showers. I could see his hair shining in the sun, catching my eyes as small droplets lit up like stars." 

Jim paused a bit and looked up from the indeterminate spot on the table where his eyes had been locked until now. Blair looked expectantly at him. 

"I had a severe crush on Robbie, Chief. He was my best bud, and I loved him intensely. It wasn't _serious_ , like you and I, but..." 

"It's ok, Jim. I understand. Go on." 

"I... I didn't look carefully around me, too much in a hurry to get across the street to him. I never really saw the car that hit me. That's one of the first times where I asked myself what good my eyesight is if I can't see a speeding car coming towards me." 

Jim sighed once. 

"I know I've told you that I didn't have my senses after Bud had been killed, but during my puberty they came back. Only for a year or so, then they went dormant again until Peru." 

"Hormonal changes, everything spiking due to the internal and external growth, it's normal. And yes, Jim, I understand why you didn't say this before. You'd have had to tell me about Robbie earlier, while you still weren't ready for that. I understand, really." 

"Thanks, Chief. Anyway, everything flared up for a moment, and then blacked out. They told me I went straight into shock, that I was never unconscious. I just don't remember anything. I found myself in an ambulance the first time I came to, but only shortly. My coach was sitting beside me, looking worried. I didn't know what had happened." 

Jim felt uncomfortable with the next part, but he knew he needed to tell it all in order to be truthful. 

"The next time I came to was in the ER, and a lot of people were asking me all the typical, stupid questions. Did I know my name, when and where was I born, who were my parents, where did I live. I could answer it all, so they made the call to my dad while preparing me for the next part. Chief, I tried to listen in, I really wanted some reassurance that he'd be there, but I couldn't focus. They..." 

Blair's grip on Jim's hand tightened and he felt ridiculously comforted from the small gesture. He was strong, wasn't he? He shouldn't need this. Then he shook his head mentally, chiding himself for still living in the shadow of his dad's influence. 

"They stuffed a tube inside, to empty me. It was too short after lunchtime for them to take a chance. I've never..." 

Jim paused again. 

"I've never felt more violated or helpless. I couldn't even keep from gagging, not to mention prevent this from happening. And the sound of it entering... and the feel. My senses were flaring at the time, giving me all the info on exactly where the tube ended and how it pressed on the tissues before it." 

Jim swallowed convulsively. Sense-memory was a powerful thing, and his senses remembered just as vividly as he did, if not more. 

"Fortunately, right after they were done emptying me out, they gave me an injection of some kind. No, I didn't really know about my drug-sensitivity at that time, so no need to get upset. I don't even really know what they gave me initially. I think it was morphine. At least that's what they gave me later on." 

Wiggling slightly, Jim changed position to lie sideways up against his lover. 

"Next morning I saw my dad sitting next to my bed and with Sally on the other side. I don't know when he arrived, and I've never asked. I hoped he'd been there the whole night, but I don't know... he was probably too busy for that." 

Jim knew the last sentence sounded bitter, but damn, he _was_ bitter at his oft-absent father. Never around when he was needed or wanted, always busy with some kind of deal. 

"They told me that my pelvis was cracked. Not broken, but cracked almost all the way across. Other than that, I'd been lucky. No major damage anywhere else, just bruises and scrapes. But. I was to lie still on my back for a lot of weeks. I didn't like that. Of course, at the time I wasn't feeling any pain, a big cotton blanket was separating me from the rest of the world. That's why I recognized the feel of morphine when you first got subjected to it, Chief. It'll always feel like a cotton blanket." 

Jim rose and went to the fridge to get a beer. 

"You want one too, Chief?" 

At the short shake of the head, he brought the single beer back to the couch and lay down. Cuddling back up after a short swig, he kissed Blair's hand as it caressed his cheek. 

"Nothing much happened that first day. I slept most of the time, only really woke up to get some soup stuff into me. I still remember the taste." 

Jim grimaced, making Blair laugh. 

"Not a good memory, huh?" 

Jim shook his head and pressed another kiss to the hand at his face. 

"I know Dad left in the morning sometime, but I don't know when or what he gave as a reason. Sally stayed, which made it all right. She took care that I ate at least something, and tried to impart some comfort to me. She helped a lot. I wasn't in pain, drugged as I was. That was about the only good thing." 

Jim took a deep breath. 

"Sally told me that Dad had told Robbie to return some other time. He threw him out! I was sleeping at the time, otherwise I'd... I don't know. I'd have said something, done something." 

"You couldn't, Jim. Not without outing yourself. Would you have permitted any other friend than Robbie to be there?" 

Jim shook his head. 

"No. You're right. As always." 

Deep sigh. 

"Dad came back in the evening, with Steven. Steven tried to get me to talk, but I was too sleepy. They left before visiting hours were over. Sally went with them this time. Anyway, the next day I was a bit less groggy, so the docs agreed with Dad to let me have some visitors. I saw Robbie again, but... we couldn't _talk_ there. Let alone do anything else. He told me that I'd been the talk of the team and the school." 

"In a good way or in a bad way?" 

"I don't know, I think mainly neutral. You know, like people are rubbernecking at car-crashes. Morbid interest. I knew who my friends were, though. They came to see me, to wish me well. Robbie was there as long as he could." 

"Did you get to be alone with him at all?" 

"Yeah. After Dad left and Sally had arrived. Sally knew. I don't know how, I never told her, she just knew. She saw Robbie come back to my room, and left to find coffee or a vase or something. I can't recall what she gave as excuse. He cried, Blair. He'd seen it all, seen me get hit and then roll over the car to land on the asphalt. He thought for a moment that I was dead. The EMT's on the scene had to sedate him." 

Jim turned over completely and rubbed his cheek against Blair's stomach. He slid his arms underneath to hold on tight. 

"Robbie cuddled in with me for the next hour, confirming to himself that I was there, alive and reasonably well. He cried himself out. It was strange, you know... his tears caused me to not need it. My eyes were dry and stayed that way. His relief was mine. Does that sound as silly as I think it does?" 

"Not silly, Jim. Second-hand catharsis is better than none, and apparently at the time it was all you needed. Go on." 

"After about an hour alone, Sally returned. She told me that the doctor would be entering soon, so we'd better behave as if we were just friends again. She shocked the hell out of Robbie and me. I knew that she was an accepting woman, but not just how much. I've never loved her more than that moment of unconditional acceptance." 

Reaching out to get some beer to moisten his parched mouth, Jim collected his thoughts again. What he still had to tell would hurt. 

"Later that afternoon I got bored. The drugs were pretty much worn off, only Sally was there at the time, and I didn't feel like talking. I got experimental." 

Jim shrugged. 

"I knew what they'd said about me lying still and all that, but I wanted to know for myself what I could do. I tried to lie on my side. You know that's my preferred position for sleeping." 

A quiet snicker met his ears. 

"Sleeping, I said." 

"Sorry, Jim. What happened?" 

"I was very carefully trying to get to my side, moving as smoothly as possible, when... I've never experienced anything like it before or after, and I hope I won't, ever. It sounded really weird, and felt worse. I got to a certain point, and then everything... slid. I could hear that wet sucking sound as my muscles were stretched too far the wrong way, and the grinding sound of bone over bone. It felt as if my entire pelvis was sliding away from me and would continue down to the floor." 

Deep breath. 

"I zoned, Chief. Big time. I couldn't hear anything but that sucking sound until Sally gripped my shoulder hard and made me lie down again. She told me I'd turned pure white and then I'd frozen. I told her what had happened, physically, and she just _looked_ at me. 'Don't you do that again until the doctor says you can, young man', she said. I had no intention of disobeying her. It had scared me." 

Blair pulled him up to hug him tightly, whispering comforting words in his ear. Jim revelled in the feeling and was content to let the story rest for a while. 

It could wait. 

A Blair-hug couldn't. 

* * *

He never did pick up the story telling again that night. They remained cuddled close until dinner made them move. At no stage did they talk further about what Jim had opened up for. Jim hoped that meant Blair had realized how much it hurt to talk about it, that he could only give these small pieces without being sucked in to the void of his own mind. 

Of course it could also be for any other reason that Blair hadn't pushed. It didn't matter. What _did_ matter was that Jim had time to reminisce further on that period of his life, how it was, what had happened, the victories and the failures. 

The victories still tasted sweet in his mind after so many years. The failures... they still cut deep. All his failures did. And there were so many of them. His dad and Steven. Peru. The fountain. Those were just the biggies, but the list went on and on. He could never really recall the victories before. They didn't really matter to him. They were outshone by the pitfalls of error, error in judgements mainly. Colonel Oliver. Alex. 

Jim took a shivering breath and deliberately focused on some of his victories. Those he had only found after meeting Blair and been pestered for what felt like a lifetime. Blair had taught him to weigh the balance. Good, evil, victory, failure, love, hate. Blair had taught him to remember. Blair had taught him... to live. 

Shaking his head at the decidedly sappy direction his mind was taking, Jim vowed to tell the rest... when he had the opportunity. 

* * *

"Tell me some more, Jim. What happened then?" 

The same type of lazy Sunday. The game had ended, the news were droning on in the background and they lay cuddled together on the couch. 

Jim didn't even pretend to not understand. What was the point? Blair knew him. Knew that Jim wasn't as dumb as he sometimes pretended to be, keeping up his caveman image on purpose. Knew that Jim had never stopped thinking from last Sunday. 

"After 3 weeks in the hospital they released me. I was pretty much healed, but I couldn't walk properly. I felt like a goose. My left side of my hip didn't want to bend properly, so I had to swing my leg around in order to take a step. I guess I had the stone face down pat even then. The only person who dared to laugh at it was Rob. He was the only person I allowed to laugh." 

Jim turned and hid his face in Blair's shirt like last time. 

"I almost hit Steven for looking amused the first time he saw me walk in the house." 

"Shhh, baby. He's forgiven you. And if he hasn't, I'll kick his ass for you." 

Jim smiled involuntarily. Blair, his Blessed Guardian, watching over his soul. 

"I had physical therapy for ages. All of it paid by Dad, of course. 'I want only the best for my son, and God forgive your soul if you don't give it your all.' Can't you just hear him say that? He said it to both me and the trainer." 

"Did it go alright? Were there any drawbacks or something? Permanent stuff?" 

"You've seen me in action, Blair. I don't have a problem." 

A strange motion under his face resulted in a strangled cough. 

" Not _that_ kind of action! I meant running and stuff. Dirty man." 

Jim bit Blair's sensitive abdomen through his shirt. 

"Hey! I wash at least as often as you do. I'm clean, man." 

"Smart ass. Anyway, the therapy _did_ help, and around the end of October I was sprung. I had the permission to run, to ride a bike, whatever I wanted. Only restraint I had was that if something hurt, I had to stop. Simple rules, simple to follow." 

"Did you have a lot of pain? Could you control it? Did you zone?" 

"Easy, Chief. Some pain, mostly if I tried too hard. Dad of course didn't understand that and pushed me to do better, do more. I usually gave him the slip with the help of Sally the times it got too bad. Rob helped a lot. He gave me some backrubs, and... helped me relax." 

Jim refused to elaborate on the last sentence. If Blair asked, he'd answer. He wouldn't volunteer any information. 

A tiny chuff of a released breath made him think that maybe there was no need to answer anything. His brilliant lover seemed to understand the unspoken words. 

"My senses flared a couple of times, usually touch. A few times I zoned, and scared the shit out of Rob. I... laughed it away, obfuscated, and downright lied to him. I didn't want to tell him. He..." 

Jim looked up, surprised. 

"He wasn't right for me. He wouldn't understand what was going on." 

Feelings tumbling end over end inside, Jim zeroed in on Blair's eyes. 

"He wasn't my Guide." 

The revelation danced within him. Now he understood why he didn't cry as much as he'd thought he would when he left for ROTC. He'd loved Rob. But not as deeply as... Incacha. And Blair. Incacha was a pale torch to the supernova of Blair. 

For a long time Jim kept his silence. Blair didn't say a word in the meantime, but kept up playing with his short hair, twining it and combing with his fingers. Jim felt cocooned in love. 

Finally, Jim cleared his throat and continued. 

"All through the winter I kept up running. I even joined the track team to be sure to keep it up. Not far, but every day. And swimming. Swimming was the best for me, because I needed to move my legs differently than by walking or running. The bike was hard for me. I couldn't go long without feeling pain. I... couldn't control it very well, so I just... stopped riding it." 

Jim nuzzled Blair's stomach lightly. 

"I felt like a wuss. The tough guy from the football team, and I had no stamina. None. My progress was so slow. I couldn't even practice with the guys from my football team. They had to rely solely on the backup Quarter Back." 

Jim raised his head to flash a quirky smile at Blair. 

"I had no patience then." 

"Then? Do you now?" 

Another small bite to the cloth covered belly and Blair subsided. 

"End of May was the big day. In more than one way. I had begged my track coach to let me participate in the regional track meet. I don't know if Dad interfered or if my begging was too efficient or what, but I was allowed." 

Jim thought back on that day. All the track teams of the entire region, some from schools almost exclusively devoted to sports, gathered together for a contest of strength and stamina. Survival of the fittest in the way considered most beneficial for young people by advisors, parents and the entire government. 

It had been like a giant circus, but not the modern kind. Jim had felt like a gladiator preparing to meet the lions. 

"I was best on the one mile distance, so that's what I signed up for. I don't know what my coach thought, since he'd not really seen the best times from me the entire spring season, but I easily qualified for both the semi final and the final." 

Jim smiled at the memory. He'd reached the finish line several yards in front of number two both times. His coach had been dumbstruck at the show of strength, strength that no one had thought he possessed. 

And Rob had taken him out behind one of the buildings and kissed him stupid. 

The latter he didn't tell Blair. 

"The semi final was a bitch. I still finished ahead of number two, like in the first race, but I was getting tired. My only luck was that there were several hours until the final. I spent it resting, lazing in the sun and slowly stretching." 

Jim nuzzled Blair stomach with his cheek before lifting his head to smile widely. 

"Coach was worried that I was burned out, that I couldn't hold it together in the final. I had surprised him by qualifying, but he was concerned about my health. So was I until he told me a nice little tidbit." 

Blair looked at Jim expectantly. 

"I was the only one qualifying for a final in any of the races. From my school, that is. The only one." 

"Wow. Major ego boost, hm?" 

"You bet, Chief. There was just _no_ way I was going to skip out of this one. Even if I'd fall apart in the middle of the race, I was going to participate." 

It had been such a rush. Rob and coach had stood side by side at the sideline, even if they didn't know the significance of that, and he'd seen most of his fellow runners standing spread along the side. Even some of the guys from the football team were there. 

"So what happened, Jim? Did you win?" 

Jim shook his head. 

"No, I lost, big time. As I had feared, I just fell apart halfway through. I didn't have anymore to give. I was in minor pain, but I could keep that at bay. I just couldn't wring anymore speed out of my legs." 

Jim shrugged. 

"I finished last, but to Rob and coach I had won. From the reaction I got from the other guys on the team, they had something of the same opinion. That day... I ruled the world." 

Slaps on his back, cheers from the runners and the footballers, all that had made him ignore all pains and aches. He didn't even notice who won. It didn't matter. And afterwards... a personal _reward_ given in the locker room when everybody but him and Rob had left. 

The sweet taste of victory. 

And then he had come home. 

Jim's smile faded completely. 

"Tell me, Jim. What turned it sour?" 

"When I... when I came home, Dad asked me how it went. I told him the result, that I'd made it to the finals, but couldn't hold it together all the way through the last race. He... he said I wasn't good enough then. Not one word of praise that I'd made it that far or that I was the only one from my school having made it to the finals. Just... that I wasn't good enough since I hadn't won." 

Jim sighed deeply as Blair held him tighter. He could hear the heartbeat pick up in what he guessed was anger. Though grateful that his lover felt so strongly about the pain he'd experienced then, he was relieved that the emotions didn't require the comforting hold to be breached. 

He felt safe in Blair's arms. 

"It did turn the victory sour for me, yes, but already at that time I'd grown accustomed to never being quite up to Dad's standards." 

With a sigh, Jim held on to the sense of reconciliation that Blair had encouraged to grow between him and his Dad. The sourness of that day was long gone and should stay gone. 

Blair continued to hold Jim tightly, slowly imparting a sense of peace in him. After tense muscles started to relax, Blair's hands doodled aimlessly over his entire back. 

"I spent the same evening alone in my room, not even wanting to talk with Stephen. The next day it was back to normal life for me... hanging out with Rob as much as possible until college separated us. We signed up on different ones, and agreed that while it had been great, we wouldn't wait. A thousand miles were a thousand too far to make things last." 

Another deep sigh from Jim was followed by a kiss to his forehead and a small squeeze of his waist from Blair's strong legs wrapped around him. 

"I don't think Dad ever thought further of what he actually said to me that day..." 

"Ask him, Jim. If he didn't know at the time how much that victory meant to you, then he will at least know it today. He's changed so much even in the time I've known him. More human." 

"You're right. As usual. Anyway, you wanted a story, and now you have it." 

Another kiss was bestowed on Jim's forehead before Blair tugged him up to get a full-body hug. 

Together they lay on the couch, each of them thinking of victories and losses, and how life becomes richer from both, even when they're sometimes simultaneous events. 

"Thank you for sharing with me. I love you." 

"I love you, Blair. More than anything or anyone. My Guide." 

The End. 


End file.
